Seems lately that only in the Northwest can we celebrate a balmy winter morning…in mid-June. So it only makes sense that I devote this post (and music) solely to all the obnoxious dumbasses that are otherwise known as ‘wine bloggers.’
First up is Sulli. This mental moron of a buttstain recently turned in his cheap riesling-doused laptop for repair and my pal, Joey, called me over to observe what was on this “I-tell-you-what-wines-to-buy-since-I-can’t-afford-them” scribbling liar’s ‘puter. We checked out his Google searches since that search engine utilizes a novel algorithm that predicts searches based on PAST input. We were quite disgusted at what we witnessed, as follows (Google autocomplete suggestions in bold):
- Is it legal to eat yourself
- If I ate myself would I be twice as big or disappear completely
- My dog wants to mate with me
- My cat wants me to get an abortion
- I wish that I had duck feet (well, u already have a bird brain…)
- At what point does cpr become necrophilia
- Why doesn’t my boyfriend get past his period
- I have three labia (typical for a hermaphrodite)
- How to get my mom to sleep with me
- I hate it when I have to pretend to be my mom’s boyfriend
Next up is Shona. This short fat fanny proudly calls herself a wine blogger but admits she “doesn’t blog about wine.” WTF? That’s enough justification for her umemployable status but some wineries take enough pity on her to hire her to pour on weekends. Somebody tell her that making less than a burger-flipping full-time, minimum-wage 15 year-old is not called “employed.” What a waste of a life. Someone call the Taliban and negotiate exchanging her for an Afghan…rug.
Poor Barbara Winegal. With my deep background in human resources, I was asked to analyze her c.v. for possible hiring. Looking at her past work history, I immediately noticed ‘red flag no. 1’ in that this untreated a.d.d. just cannot hold down a job. She spent an average of six and a half months at each of her last FIVE jobs. This does not include her being an “owner” of a website that appears to be dealing with sex toys that isn’t even ‘live’ even though she’s been owning it for almost 2 years! She should rethink her name to Syphilis WineGal. Hint to her future bfs: don’t use her electric toothbrush. The one job she did hold for 3 years (during college while chasing a ‘rocks for jocks’-type major in social anthropology) was as a minimally-paid schlepper at a wine store. It was probably there that she figured out how gullible the wine buying public was and has since used flirty tweets (some would say slutty) to acquire thousands of horndogs (who don’t buy any wine) to dupe wineries into thinking she has any influence in buying wines. She resides in Loserville. Population…one. Her. Or more accurately…it.
Lastly, we reach not a wine blogger, but a wine blogger groupie in Annie. Not satisfied enough to serve crappy Oriental food in a hamlet of north Seattle, she latched onto a previously-mentioned wine blogger, probably by hypnotizing him with her thousands of blotchy freckles, and clinging onto him (some say like a Himalayan leech) and passing many nights of fornication at his shoebox residence at a seedy corner in Wallingford. How do I know this? A laptop possesses many secrets, my friend. Let’s take a look at HER Google searches:
- Is it gross to change your tampon in a restaurant kitchen
- Is it normal to eat your period blood with moo goo gai pan
- I’m having trouble dealing with the fact paul gwine could be my in-law
- What do I do when my gay boyfriend fingers me
- Do dead people fart
- Is it wrong to sleep with your stepdad after your mom dies
I take that back about wine bloggers being dumbasses. If one of them can remove a groupie like the one above from the gene pool, then a service to society has been positively accomplished.
One trait I am known for is sharing not just good, but REALLY good wines with my wine associates in the trade. When it comes to sharing wines that I like, there is never a sub-$15 bottle amongst the choices. There will always be a market for luxe wines for “82 winos” like me and my posse. Other wine bloggers cry and whimper why such wines exist because they can’t afford the classy stuff. See, if they had the “play money” or disposable cash flow like this author does, they wouldn’t be slamming the pricey, standout bottles that a winery wants to be known for. Second labels, leftovers for cuvees, and the like…those are for the cheapskates and wannabes. Or a simple weeknight douser. Never, ever, ever should such declassified juice be presented as an impressionable wine to people you respect. That was a tip.
However, from time to time, I’m willing to experiment and take a chance as I did with this bottle I pulled off the Fred Meyer shelf.
Chilean carmenere has a rather shady history; only recently being given props after being mis-classified as merlot. Chilean wines in general have a rising reputation for quality and wines from South America tend to be my favorite “world” value, as evidenced by my previous posts on Argentinian malbec and Uruguayan tannat. So, I felt confident toting this along to sip with a buddy on a cool weekday.
Some background, the few Washington carmeneres I have blogged about have been epiphanys. Beresan Winery’s version is the best-to-date and I have more on the way to explore. So, I had somewhat high expectations when I opened this bottle. After all, mention Chile to a wino and the first grape that comes to mind is carmenere. What France gave up on, Chile has refined to world-class status. Well, bite my words on its ass as this wine just typified all that is wrong with carmenere. Color this taste as ‘green’. Bell pepper green. And minty. With rough tannins. Uh yeah, I took a hit on this one. And worse yet, my buddy, who already had a cold, turned a paler shade of blue and refused any more of the wine. Truly embarrassing, but ya live and learn…
Food pairing was string bean pork, which was a decent pairing with the added bell pepper flavors. I imagine beef broccoli would also be a passable pairing.
Tasted at 46-66 degrees on the IR temp gun. Color: deep, dark purple. Aromas: fresh grape must. Mouthfeel: thick. Tail trail: 4 seconds. Flavors (at 8 hours): bell pepper (the warmer the wine, the stronger the stench), black pepper, cigarette ash, black raspberry, mint, twiggy tannins.
Alcohol: 14%. Estate bottled. From almost 60 year-old vines grown near the famed Clos Apalta rows of Casa Lapostolle. “Apaltagua is derived from an old Araucanian Indian dialect, and means ‘the place of Apalta.’” Colchagua region. Rated: 81. Paid: $10. Value: $4. Music pairing: “Fuck You” by Cee Lo Green. This is WAwineman…uncorked, uneducated but not uncouth.